AN: Well, this is it. Being Jason White is officially done. Yes, I have lots of little side stories I might write in the future, but as far as following Jason's progression, I think by the end of the chapter you will see that I've taken him about as far as he will go for the purpose of this story. I also hope that lots of questions will be answered by this final chapter... as well as leave enough open that should I write again in this AU I will still have some surprises up my sleeve.

Lots of thanks to htbthomas, who not only beta read for me but managed to send me the bit of Kryptonian I needed to make this chapter "complete." (Unfortunately fanfiction dot net wont' allow me to use the image, so if you want to see the image you have to read the chapter on Live Journal.) Van-El for working me through the technical side of some things. Hellish for being the a devoted beta in any and all fandoms, and Trekkie for being my cheerleader of sorts though this.

In case you are wondering and you haven't noticed, this means Being Jason White can be nominated for any and all categories in the supesmvawards including completed fic. BJW didn't win anything last time around, nor did Kate as an OC or Jason/Kate as a couple! So I'm pimping them out because I don't know when I will ever get to torture them again.

Thank all of you for your support for the last two years in this fandom. I would never have written as much as I did were it not for the support and love I have felt from all of my on-line friends. You all rock. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Age 28 – The House of El

Change is inevitable. I've experienced change every year – every month – every day of my life. But never have I experienced so many changes in one year. It hasn't even been a full year yet and already my life has done a near one-eighty from where it was this time last year.

First was the open acceptance of Clark as my biological father. Telling the staff of the Daily Planet was nerve-wracking, especially considering how Jimmy Olson thought it was a joke and laughed for a good three minutes. Of course, that was only the precursor to my Uncle Perry dropping a bomb on me that I never saw coming.

Mom and Clark initially didn't plan on telling everyone right away, but from what I understand, they made it pretty impossible to miss. They announced their engagement at the Daily Planet Christmas Eve party, which was followed up with an actual, albeit impromptu engagement party at the start of the New Year. Jimmy Olson sauntered up to me more than a little tipsy with a drink in hand and a laugh already rolling through his chest.

"Oh, Jason," he crooned. "I have been hearing the craziest rumors these last few days."

"Like what?" I asked even though I had an inkling of what was coming.

"Oh, man. You will not believe this," he laughed. "And for the record, I didn't start it, but—" He laughed again, a wide grin on his face. "It's going around that you – that Lois and Clark…" He snorted and doubled over, unable to actually say it. "Someone said that a long time ago Lois and Clark had been… you know?" He made a rude gesture as his voice dropped in pitch. "And that you were actually—" he laughed, "that you were really Clark's son… not Richard's!" Jimmy was now full out laughing to the point where he was nearly crying.

I, on the other hand, was standing still with a small, somewhat sad smile on my face. The truth had been locked up for so long that even the people who had known my parents from the beginning found it laughable.

It took Jimmy a good two or three minutes to regain composure. When he did, and once he realized that I wasn't laughing, his face took on a much more solemn expression. "It's just a rumor," he said in his attempt at comforting me.

"It's not just a rumor, Jimmy," I replied. "It's the truth."

I don't think I'd ever seen a more stunned expression on anyone's face than I did at that moment. Jimmy really was shocked by my admission. Little did I know that I was about to receive an even bigger shock that would shake the foundations of my entire existence.

It came about a week or so later, after Jimmy managed to spread the word that the "craziest" rumor was in fact the truth. I stopped by to talk with mom about watching Eric for Kate and me when my Uncle Perry called me into his office. Even in his mid-seventies, Perry White was still a force to be reckoned with. I'd never been fully comfortable around him, but I did respect him and love him.

He guided me into his office, closed the door behind him, and then just stood there and looked at me for several long and silent seconds. "I want to hear it from you, Jason."

"Hear what?" I asked.

"I want you to tell me that Clark Kent is your biological father."

I released a deep breath and slumped forward a bit. Uncle Perry had been very close to Dad – to Richard. Hearing that I wasn't really his son had to be upsetting and confusing. "Uncle Perry, I don't want you to be angry about this."

"I'm not," he said evenly. "I just need to hear you say it."

His calm demeanor puzzled me, but I did as he asked. "Clark Kent really is my biological father." Then, just to try to ease whatever pain might be there, I quickly added, "But Dad knew about it."

Uncle Perry nodded. "I know he did. He told me."

That surprised me. "He did?"

"Yes. He told me a long time ago that you weren't really his son. He was torn up over it, because if ever a man loved a child more than Richard loved you, then I've never seen it. And he made me swear never to treat you any differently than I would if you were his real son. And I didn't."

Something wasn't sitting right in my belly. There was more to this story and I dreaded hearing it, fearing the worst. Nevertheless, I was going to hear it, for there was no stopping Uncle Perry.

He took a step forward and slid his hands into his pockets. "Thing is, Jason, when Richard told me that you weren't his son, the name that he gave as your biological father sure as hell wasn't Clark Kent."

The sinking feeling in my gut twisted into a knot and pulled hard. I swallowed hard and Uncle Perry dropped the unavoidable bomb at my feet.

"He told me… when you were all of seven years old… that Superman was your father."

I blinked. There wasn't much else I could do but blink and stare and worry.

"I swore – against all that I believe in as a reporter – that I would never tell another living soul that I had that information. It was the biggest, most impressive secret I have ever been trusted with. Every fiber of my being wanted to run it as a headline and be known as the editor who scooped the world, but I didn't. I kept my word to Richard. I never said anything to you or even Lois that I knew. You're family, Jason. You were the best thing that ever happened to Richard – and because of you, I got myself one hell of a reporter at the head of my international division who was committed to staying here in Metropolis as well as the knowledge that Superman would be around for a long, long time, 'cause let's face it – the Man of Steel isn't going to run away a second time and leave his own son behind. So, I kept my word, difficult as it was to do."

Somehow I found my voice. "Thank you."

He smiled. "Oh, don't thank me yet… 'cause you see, you just told me Clark Kent was your father."

I blinked again. And then fought back the panic settling in my heart.

"You're not a very good liar, Jason. Richard used to say that he always knew when you weren't being completely honest with him because you either turned really defensive or you couldn't look him in the eye. Yet you stood there just now and looked directly at me and very calmly stated that Clark Kent was your father."

"Look, Uncle Perry, Clark… um…"

"You're looking down," he pointed out. "Whatever you're going to say is a lie."

I looked up at him. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me that I haven't been the biggest idiot to ever run a newspaper. I want you to tell me that I haven't been duped for the last thirty-some odd years. I want you to tell me that the one person I have tried endlessly to track down hasn't been right under my nose day in and day out and I just didn't see it. Tell me – because I have never thought of myself as a stupid man, but if you tell me Clark Kent is really Superman then I just may have to quit right here and now."

What was I supposed to say to that? "Uncle Perry," I started slowly, "if you think you're an idiot or you're stupid or you've been duped… then you should realize that I was, too. Because I didn't see it either."

He squinted at me. "So you're saying it's true?"

I nodded wordlessly.

He whistled out a long sigh. "I've been waiting for the perfect headline to end my career with."

I snapped, "You can't publish—"

"And now I have something that any other editor from any newspaper would kill for."

"Uncle Perry!"

"And I can't say a word."

I licked my lips. "What?"

"I can't say a word. I won't say a word."

My breath hitched as I waited for him to continue.

"I made a promise to Richard not knowing what it would cost me, but it's still a promise. I made that promise to protect you when you were little. I'm going to take a wild guess that you have more in common with your old man than just good looks and wouldn't be in much danger now were I to say anything. But you have a little one of your own now… and even though I never had any kids, I'm not such a rat bastard that I don't understand the need to protect them. So, the promise stays." He thumped my shoulder and gave me a nod. "The promise stays."

"Thank you," I said quietly.

He patted my shoulder again before opening the door to his office and signaling for me to go. Yet before I could get all the way out of the room, he called me back. "Jason?"

"Yes?"

"Tell Clark to come in here."

I swallowed.

"Superman owes me one hell of an exclusive."

Uncle Perry got his wish along with a photo of Superman shaking his hand at his retirement party worthy of the front page. Perry White would not only be known forever as one of the longest serving and influential Editor-in-Chiefs of a newspaper, but also as the only Editor-in-Chief who could honestly call Superman a friend.

As if worrying about Jimmy and Uncle Perry wasn't enough for me to take on, I also had to deal with the stress of watching my parents plan a formal wedding in a whirlwind rush. They set a wedding date of February ninth, which gave them a little over a month to actually plan, announce, and participate in a wedding. I was also set to perform in the Valentine's Romantic era concert, which left my mind and my schedule being pulled in two directions. I asked them to wait until after Valentine's Day for my sanity's sake, but they were dead set on the ninth.

Somehow, we got through it. With Clark misplacing the rings and Mom nearly having a panic attack over the fact that Clark wouldn't tell her where they were going on their honeymoon, I was ready for something to go horribly wrong. To my pleasant surprise, the wedding went off without so much as a hitch.

And that made me worry more than ever. It nagged at my gut all the way home from the reception and still nagged at me as Kate and I crawled into bed.

"You okay?" she asked, sliding her arm over my stomach.

"I'm… fine."

"Liar."

I turned my face to look at her. "No, really. Everything's… great."

"Then why have you been so distant tonight?"

How could I explain it to her? I couldn't even really pinpoint the problem for myself. "It's… perfect. Everything is pretty much perfect."

"And that's a problem?"

I shrugged. "Yes. For me it is. I have everything I've ever wanted, Kate. I have a career that some people would kill for. I get to do what I love to do and be paid fairly well for it, and I'm allowed room for growth. I have a wife who is the most beautiful, most understanding woman I have ever met who loves me more than I could ever hope to be loved. We have a son who is bright and strong and has filled my life with joy. And then today… my mother married my real father, and I was allowed to actually tell people he was my real father." I paused to take it all in. "If ever I had a plan or a dream for my life, this was what it would be. I couldn't ask for anything more."

"Why does that upset you then?"

"Because I know something is going to happen to change it. Something – at some point sooner or later – is going to happen to mess up this perfect moment. And that scares me. I've never been at a point in my life where I could honestly say I wouldn't change anything. There has always been chaos in my life, but not today. Today things are very peaceful. Now that I'm here, I'm terrified of what is around the corner."

"Let me see if I understand you correctly," she said, rolling onto her back and taking on a very analytical voice. "You are unhappy because you are too happy. You would feel better if you had some chaos to mess things up rather than just living a normal, happy life."

"Yes, exactly. I need chaos - something messy." I considered it a moment. "I think I thrive on mess, to tell you the truth."

"But just because something is messy doesn't mean that it's bad. Take your mom and dad, for example. Having the two of them suddenly announce their engagement was sort of messy, but in the end it was a good thing."

"True, but it was still messy and kept me on my toes. I start to worry when there isn't anything to really worry about."

She frowned at me. "You are very strange."

"You're just now figuring that out?"

"Okay," she nodded. "Chaos."

"Yes. I just would like to know what's next. What's around the corner that's going to change everything."

She hummed thoughtfully. "Come here," she said with a flick of her wrist.

"Where?"

"Put your head down." Her hand patted at her chest just above her breasts.

"What?"

"Put your head down and just close your eyes."

"Okay," I drawled, lowering my head to her chest. Taking her invitation to be something more intimate, I kissed the tops of her breasts.

She swatted at my head. "Stop. Just put your head down and listen."

"To what?" I asked, doing as I was told.

"Shhhh…"

"Is there something wrong with your heart?"

"Shhhhh…" she hissed more forcefully. "Just close your eyes and be quiet."

I relaxed against her body, draping my arm over her small frame. My eyelids slid shut as I was lulled by the rhythm of her heartbeat. Steady and strong – a sound I treasured and could find easily in a room full of people. Her breathing was just as even and calm, her chest rising and falling with each subtle breath. Eight heartbeats for every breath in and out.

And yet… there was something else. Another pattern. Something… distant. A separate rhythm infinitely more rapid and nowhere near as strong, but unmistakably familiar.

A second heartbeat that didn't belong to Kate.

In that next moment I came as close to flying as I've ever come in my life, for the shock of what I was hearing quite literally sent me flying up and away from Kate. I knelt next to her, looking down at her body in total wonder.

"You're pregnant!" I gasped.

She bit her bottom lip and smiled. "Surprise."

"When? How?" My brain was having difficulty forming any full questions.

"If you don't know how, then we really need to talk."

I chuckled and covered her flat stomach with my hand. "How – how long have you known?"

"A few weeks."

"A few weeks?" I gaped at her. "Kate!"

"I know how you feel about secrets, but you have been so stressed about the wedding and about your concert that I thought it would be one less thing for you to worry about."

"But you've been stressed, too. Running around for Mom and taking care of Eric and—"

"And I have been well taken care of. Your mother has insisted that I take a nap every afternoon."

I frowned at her. "Mom knows?"

She made a sad kind of a face. "I didn't have much choice. I nearly puked on her last week and she tried to shove Pepto Bismol down my throat. I told her so she wouldn't think I was sick."

I slumped over a bit, feeling a little badly about the whole situation, but still in awe of the miracle of it all. Then Kate tossed out another blow.

"And your dad knows, too."

"What?" I snapped.

"He figured it out while we were dancing tonight. He heard the baby's heartbeat. It's kind of how I decided on how to tell you."

I shook my head in partial amazement and anger. Amazed that this was happening – angry that I hadn't heard the heartbeat sooner myself.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice. I – I can't believe that I didn't notice," I said, slowly lowering my head to rest on her stomach so that I could clearly hear the life growing inside of her.

She wove her fingers through my hair. "No need to apologize. I did a really good job of keeping you distracted from it."

The dual rhythms of the two heartbeats thumped together in a synchronous pattern. I pulled up the hem of Kate's t-shirt so that I could kiss the skin of her belly and then replaced my ear against her body. We stayed like that for a good while, me just listening to the hypnotic heartbeats and her playing with my hair.

"How far along are you?" I asked quietly.

"About eight weeks."

I did the math and then leaned up a bit to look at her. "Christmas Eve?"

She giggled. "That was a fun night."

"Very fun. And… rather productive."

"Looks like I got more than just a necklace for Christmas this year."

"Looks like it. And here I spent money that I didn't need to spend!"

She pulled me forward and kissed me. "Is this chaotic enough for you?"

"It's… perfect." The grin on my face probably made me look silly, but I didn't care.

The goofy grin stayed on my face for a few days and burst into full bloom every time I told someone Kate was expecting. It wasn't until Eric asked another one of his innocent and deeply poignant questions that the full weight of everything started to dawn on me.

"Will my brover or sister be special wike me? Wike Gwampa Cwark?"

"Yes," I said as calmly as possible.

"Did day speak Engwish on Kwipton?"

The non sequitur had me confused. "No."

"How do you say baby in Kwipton?"

My stomach plummeted. "I don't know."

"Didn't Gwampa Cwark ever teach you?"

As usual, I looked to Kate for support, but she only gave me an "I told you so" look.

Wanting to avoid telling my son the nasty details about my past history with my father, I told him that I hadn't had a chance to ask him yet, but that I would find out the answer to his question soon enough. That led to me posing the question to Clark about a week later over one of our casual lunches. His fork stopped midway to his mouth in shock.

"Why are you asking?" he said after a moment.

"Eric wants to know."

His face fell in disappointment, "Oh, I thought maybe you wanted to know."

"Well," I said, drawing out the word as I sat forward, "I do kind of want to know."

Only his eyes lifted to look at me. "You do?"

"Yeah, I do," I answered without pause. "If you were from another country, I'd want to know something about the language… the culture."

His gaze narrowed in on me, but he didn't say anything.

"So, will you teach me?"

"Teach you what exactly?"

"About Krypton – the culture – the language."

He put his fork down on his plate and sat way back in his chair to stare at me. "Who are you and what have you done with Jason White?"

"That's not funny."

"I didn't mean it as a joke."

Feeling more than slightly intimidated by his stare, I said, "Look, it's something I realized when Eric asked me about it. I blamed you for not sharing things with me for so long, which made me feel like an outsider. And now you've given me the opportunity to learn about your home and I have turned you away. So when Eric asks me to share with him what I know, I can't do it, which potentially puts him in the same place with me as I was with you. I don't want that. I don't want him to think I'm keeping anything from him. I want him to know. And no offense, but I don't always want him to have to go to you. I want him to come to me. For that, I have to come to you. So, I'm here now asking you for this."

The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Aos. But that's if you mean baby in a general sense. It changes depending on gender and your relationship to the baby."

"There's more than one word for baby?"

"Sure."

With that one simple word I began my education in Kryptonian. It wasn't easy, not by a long shot. I had to learn the symbols and the phonetics and grammar. Oh, the grammar! With a new alphabet to work with, it wasn't like learning German or Spanish, but rather like learning Chinese. It was slow going since there was only one person who could help me and his schedule was just as busy as my own. It wasn't as if I could run down to the library and check out a book on the subject, either. In all the books published about Superman, only one even attempted to make sense out of the few Kryptonian symbols the general public knew about. Yet whenever we were alone, Clark would slip a few words into our conversations, and he would drop off some guides he had written up from time to time. "Study guides", he called them, which made me feel like I was back in high school.

About six months into my education, I found myself reluctantly being whisked off once again to the northern Fortress. Clark insisted that there were things I could learn at the Fortress that he simply couldn't put on paper. I hated to agree with him, but he was right. I'd only been up there two times and I knew there was a vast amount of information to be learned. When I said I wanted to learn about Krypton, part of me realized that I was basically opening the door to spending time up north.

When we arrived at the Fortress this time, I didn't have the total sense of dread that I'd had last time. I recalled the wonder I felt the first time I saw the magnificent spectacle and took in the magnitude of the structure. The building still left me with such feelings, but those emotions were plagued with the memory of the horrid things that were said to me – about me – by a man I was expected to accept as my grandfather.

Trying to calm my jittery nerves, I said, "Still white. Still cold. This place doesn't ever change, does it?"

Clark turned to look at me with an odd expression. "I have something I need to show you that just might make you feel differently." He took a few steps toward the central control panel.

My heart raced. "I thought you had something you wanted me to read. Like… in a library."

"I do." He was still walking towards the crystals.

"Then where is it?"

He turned to look at me again. "It's here," he said indicating the crystals.

I swore under my breath and rolled my eyes.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," I lied. "Just tell me you're not going to make me listen to Jor-El again. I'll listen to anything but him."

Clark frowned. "I do need you to hear him just once more, Jason."

"No way," I said quickly. "When I came with you, you said you had things for me to see – to read – that you couldn't put on paper! You didn't say anything about Jor-El."

"I can't show you want I need to show you without my father's help."

"But he's—" I growled and roughly ran a hand through my hair.

"He's what?"

"He's a jerk! He doesn't like me!"

"That's not true. He didn't know who you were."

"He called me an abnormal hybrid! He said you weren't supposed to have relationships and that you were infinitely superior to humans! He was pompous and rude and I have no desire to ever talk to him again!"

Clark waited a beat for me to settle down. "If you're through yelling at me, I would like to explain something that I have tried to explain for years."

I huffed and flopped down on one of the steps. "Whatever."

"You're acting like a child, Jason."

"Well, I was a child when you first brought me here to be told that I shouldn't have even been born!"

"That is not what my father said. No one has ever said that to you."

I bit back my retort because I could tell I was making him very angry.

"When I was about twenty years old and finding out who I was and where I was from, I asked the same questions that you asked all those years ago. I asked if I could have a family, and I was told that it was impossible for me to have a child with a human—"

I made a face at him, but he kept going.

"— because my DNA was incompatible with human DNA. My father told me this with much sadness because he knew what it was to want to be a father, and it hurt him to have to tell me that I would never have that."

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "But he was wrong."

"Yes, he was. He was basing his information off of what Kryptonian scientists had observed from Earth. Not one person from my planet had ever come face-to-face with a human. It was all speculation and hypothesizing. It wasn't fact."

"Fine. You admit that he was wrong. At least that's something." That much made me feel a little better.

"When I found out about you, I came here to talk to my father about you and I was told the same things over again – the same things you heard. I argued with my father about you. I did everything I could think of to make him understand that his hypothesis was incorrect, and I came up short." He picked up the large crystal – the one I knew and feared. "So, I had to convince him another way. It took me a long time to get it right, but I had to do it… for your sake."

He slid the crystal into place and the giant, translucent face of Jor-El came into focus. I cringed and hugged myself, refusing to actually look at the floating head that I despised so much.

"My son," that voice said, and a chill ran down my spine. "You do not remember me. I am Jor-El. I am your father. By now, I will have been dead many thousands of your years. You are the only survivor of the planet Krypton. Imbedded in the crystals before you is the total accumulation of all literature and scientific fact from dozens of other worlds, spanning the twenty-eight known galaxies. There are questions to be asked. Here, in this Fortress of Solitude, we shall try to find the answers together. So, my son, Kal-El, speak."

What happened next took me by total surprise. Clark answered Jor-El in Kryptonian. The whole conversation played out in nothing but Kryptonian. I sat open-mouthed as I listened to my first fully Kryptonian dialogue, trying to pick up a few words and finding it much more difficult to decipher than I'd ever expected. I could only pick out a word here and there. Father… son… mother… and a reference to the House of El.

The conversation was brief, but whatever Clark said to Jor-El made him smile, which softened his face somewhat before he vanished completely. Replacing his image was a host of Kryptonian symbols. I looked them over and determined that they were names. Jor-El… Kal-El… Lara. Mostly names I recognized with a few that I didn't. All members of the prestigious House of El from Krypton, I gathered.

Clark again spoke in his native language and Jor-El's voice responded, echoing through the Fortress. However, unlike other times when Jor-El sounded so confident and sure of himself, this time there was uncertainty in his voice. I picked out the words son… earth… mother… human… name… family. My body shivered involuntarily when I heard them both say the word human. I wasn't sure what they were talking about, but I had a feeling I wasn't going to like it. I knew how Jor-El felt about the human race.

Suddenly, the symbols floating in mid-air flashed and adjusted. The light was so bright I actually had to squint to look at it. When the light dimmed, I saw that there were new symbols listed at the bottom – symbols that spelled out another name I didn't recognize.

Clark turned to look at me, a joyous expression lighting up his face. He wasn't smiling the wide grin that normally came with Clark Kent. This was more peaceful and substantially more potent than any simple smile I'd ever seen from him. Whatever had just happened delighted him deeply. In fact, I don't think I'd ever seen him look as happy or as proud as he did right then, not even when he married my mother.

"What do you think?" he asked me.

I frowned, "Of what?"

"Of all this!" He indicated the symbols, looked back at me, and then broke out into that all-too familiar Clark grin that I'd sensed would appear sooner or later.

"What is it?"

His face fell. "What is—? What do you mean what is it? Don't you understand it?"

I stood up and walked forward. "Um… a little. They're just names, right?"

The sparkle returned to Clark's eyes. "Yes. Can't you read them?"

"Jor-El… Kal-El…" The bottom name was still unfamiliar. "Who's Son-El?"

Looking me directly in the eyes, Clark said, "You."

The full measure of that one word made my heart skip a beat. "Me?"

"Yes," he said, smiling again. "This is the genealogy of the House of El. You see my grandfather's name, my father's name, my name, and now I have added my son's name. You. Something I should have done years ago."

I stared at the name at the bottom of the list. Son-El. Me. My name. As foreign as it sounded, it represented me. "What does it mean?" I mumbled.

"I couldn't find a name in our family history that I thought fit you, so I had to find a new name. I thought about using a "J" at the beginning for "Jason," but I didn't like the sound of Jas-El or Jay-El. Also, I figured that anything that started with a "J" would make you think of my father, and I know that you don't hold him in the best regards."

"Right," I sighed, feeling ever so slightly guilty about my opinions towards Jor-El for the first time.

"So I shifted my focus from the start of your human name to the end. Ja-SON. Son-El." He smiled that small yet exuberant smile again. "I thought it was fitting that you would forever be known as my son, both in Kryptonian lineage and by using the English language in your name."

I kept staring at the letters of my name, permanently etched in the Kryptonian records of the House of El. My house. My family. My history.

Then I realized something very important. "What about Eric?"

"What about him?"

"Shouldn't he be up there? What's his name?"

"Well," Clark shrugged, "he's your son, Jason. You should name him."

I gaped at him. "But I don't know any Kryptonian names? I don't even know that much about Krypton."

"I thought that's why we were here – so you could learn more about the language and culture."

He had me there.

"And I think it's high time that you came to know your grandfather for who he really is."

"I… um…"

Before I could protest, Clark was addressing Jor-El once again, but this time he did it in English. "Father, I would very much like for you to meet my son."

The symbols vanished and Jor-El's face reappeared before me. The hate I'd felt all these years mingled with the fear of a child who had been told things about himself no child should ever hear and left me frozen in place.

"Son-El," his voice boomed. "Born to my son, Kal-El, on the planet Earth. How many of your years have passed without my knowledge of your existence?"

I looked over at Clark, waiting for him to answer his father. Instead, he nudged me forward and very softly said, "Talk to him."

I gazed up into the enormous, glowing face of the man who had once declared my existence an impossibility to find him subtly smiling down on me. Finding my voice, I said, "Twenty-eight… I guess. But I spoke to you once before."

Jor-El's head moved to the side in a show of slight confusion. "When have we spoken, Son-El?"

"Jason," Clark said quietly, stepping up next to me, "he thought you were me when you talked to him. He won't remember your conversation."

"Then how can he know who I am now?"

"Because I reprogrammed the sun crystals." He said it so matter-of-factly that it took me a moment to really comprehend what he had done.

"You changed him?"

"Not change him, per se. He still has the same personality. I simply made it so he could accept new information that he hadn't been able to accept previously."

"Like… my birth?"

"Exactly. The crystals have the capacity to adapt to new information so long as it is within the realm of expectations that my father could foresee. He knew I would get older. He knew I would have difficulties throughout my life on Earth. He tried to anticipate every question and change as it would come. But when it came to you – to having a child – the program only went so far as to tell me it was impossible. I reprogrammed the crystals to accept you as a possibility, keeping intact everything my father had learned and hypothesized, but allowing for the fact that those conclusions could be wrong. And obviously they were wrong."

"It was my belief that a human's genetic code was incompatible with that of a Kryptonian's," Jor-El said, drawing our attention up to him.

"I think he heard us," I whispered.

"Forgive us, Father," Clark said. "I was just explaining to Jason how it was that you could communicate with him now when you couldn't several years ago."

"And forgive me for not having the foresight to realize that scientists are often proven inaccurate in their assumptions," Jor-El replied. "I must say that of all the conclusions I have drawn about your time on Earth, Kal-El, this is one about which I am pleased to be proven incorrect."

"So am I, Father."

Jor-El's head tilted again. "You referred to your son as Jason – or am I, once again, mistaken?"

"You are not mistaken. Here on Earth, my son goes by the name Jason White, much the same way that I am known as Clark Kent."

"What is your occupation on Earth, Son-El?"

I gulped back the nerves that still spread through my body when he addressed me. "I'm… um… a musician. I play the piano."

"He's a brilliant musician," Clark corrected. "One of the most talented on the planet."

"I wouldn't go that far," I mumbled.

"Do you share your father's abilities?" Jor-El pressed.

"Some of them."

"Superhuman hearing?"

"Yes."

"X-ray vision?"

"Yes."

"Speed and strength?"

"Yes."

"But given the fact that your mother is human, one must conclude that your cellular structure is such that you cannot defy the Earth's gravity."

"No, I can't." I shrank back a little, unable to repress the feelings of inadequacy whenever my inabilities were discussed.

"It makes me curious," he paused. "Were you ill as a child?"

"A little, yeah."

"I imagine that your human DNA interpreted your Kryptonian DNA as a foreign substance that should be destroyed. Likewise, your Kryptonian DNA possibly struggled to dominate those aspects that were more human. It must have been a great challenge growing up between two worlds, unable to fully live as one or the other."

"It was," I replied in astonishment.

"And yet you have overcome whatever challenges were placed in your path. You are a fully-grown, mature adult with great strength, physically and also emotionally, no doubt. I can only assume that your strength in overcoming the difficulties of your very existence is what defines your very character."

Too stunned to reply, I simply shrugged. I wouldn't ever say that I had a great strength of character, but I wasn't about to correct Jor-El when he was actually saying kind things to me. Never in a million years had I ever expected something like this from him.

"Father," Clark interrupted, "I have begun teaching Jason about Krypton. It would be helpful if he could have access to whichever files he needed from now on so that he could learn at his own pace and not be dependent upon me for his education."

Jor-El's brow furrowed. "You have only now begun teaching your son about Krypton?"

Clark wet his lips. "It's been a very rough journey getting here, Father. When you suggested that Jason had a difficult life, you were more than right. There were so many things that weren't done correctly. I made so many mistakes along the way. That's why it's taken us so long to reach this point."

"The most important relationship you will ever forge, Kal-El, is that of being a father to your son. Speaking as a man who did not have the opportunity to watch his son grow into adulthood, I envy you the time you are allowed with your son. I would have thought that you, of all people, would have respected that relationship to the utmost of your ability."

"Father—"

"He did," I blurted out. "He did respect the relationship."

"Jason—"

"No, listen to me," I turned to Clark. "If you're going to tell him, at least tell him the truth. Don't try to cover for me." I redirected my focus on Jor-El. "We got off to a shaky start, that much is true. He wanted to protect me, because you see, I'm not invulnerable like him. Fill me with enough bullets and I will die. I could have easily been used against him, and for that reason he wasn't a part of my life the way most fathers are."

Beside me, I felt Clark slump in personal disappointment.

"More than that, I wasn't the easiest child to get along with," I continued, directing what I had to say to Clark now rather than Jor-El. "I made things very difficult for him. I did and said things that I am not proud of, but I can't change the past. I can only assure you that I'm trying every day to make things right… and so is he."

I turned back to Jor-El. "You're absolutely right in saying that the most important relationship is that between a parent and a child. I know that now because I have my own son. I want things to be better for him than they were for me. I have learned from all these mistakes, and it's my intention to move forward rather than look back. So please, don't blame my father for everything that has happened. No one is perfect in all of this. Not him, not me… not even you!" I pointed up at him. "The things that you said to me when I was younger only added fuel to the fire in my relationship with my father."

"Whatever passed between us," Jor-El's voice reverberated, "I am deeply sorry for any misunderstanding. I would never intentionally be cruel to my own flesh and blood."

Whatever emotional momentum I had gained in my momentary outburst was wiped away completely. The reminder that we were of the same flesh and blood was one that left me speechless and awestruck. Even though the apology was a simple one, I found it nearly impossible to doubt the sincerity in his eyes.

"I have made mistakes, Father," Clark stated, "but we are here now, and Jason wants to move forward with his education."

"Then let us proceed."

I held my breath for a moment. And then my breath left me as I started to learn… everything.